Fool me Once
by DsignG4
Summary: What goes on in Marcus Cole's head? This is a prequel story that comes before his life when he joined the rangers in the B5 book To Dream in the City of Sorrows 9 Meet the women of Marcus Cole's life before B5.
1. Chapter 1: Beginning of the end

By: DsignG4 

This is a requel of sorts it bounces from pre-B5 years to "current day" during B5 years, like say season 4. I have been working on this for sometime and decided it was time to show it out the door. It's Done enough, I might add more to it later (much). 

We never knew much about Marcus, book nine touched on his life before the rangers, but not much. I wrote this to try to explain a few of the many mystifying aspects of this character. 

NOTE: _Italic text_ is in the past.

* * *

_Marcus plopped down beside her in the small colony's meager media library. "Hey," He said breathlessly, he'd run all the way. "Mum threw some last minute chores at me, I had to finish them before I could cut out."_

She smiled sadly at him and leaned over. He kissed her on the lips in greeting, his tongue tangling with hers for a brief moment. He took her hands in his and sat back expectantly. 

"Dad got a new XO in to replace the one that went south last month. Want to go out and take it for a spin?" he wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

They were always trying to find a place to be together wherever they could. It was harder than it sounded; finding a private place on the overcrowded residents platform was next to impossible. He was doing his best to find those few opportunities.

They'd not taken that 'final step' yet, had come real close, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Her father had this habit of interrupting them at crucial times, and now they lived in mortal fear of him popping out of nowhere at any instant. Well, she did; he was more the 'let's go someplace where he won't think to look for us' school of thought. 

Marcus had the means, and as any red blooded seventeen year old would, he continually tried to present ideal opportunities for 'aloneness' to remedying this, but was not having any luck convincing her after the last 'incident' a few weeks ago. She was always too gun shy to disobey her dad too much. Which was driving Marcus crazy after so long.

To make matters worse, her father didn't approve of her dating the boss's son, and seemed like he spent every spare moment trying to track them down. Which only made them try harder to not be found, and made her periods of grounding and confinement all the more frustrating.

"I wish I could." She swallowed hard, her dark brown eyes holding his in fear. Her voice was soft and hesitant. " I need to pack. I'm leaving for college in 4 days."

"What? Four days?" Marcus protested, dropping her hand. "Christine! When did this come up?"

He and Christine had grown up together on the small desolate colony. Not counting his younger brother, who only proceeded to be in the way at every instance, they were the only kids on the colony.

He, Willie and Chris were best friends from the day she arrived. She was seven years old, Marcus eight, and Willie was six then. They were like the three musketeers growing up, and had gotten more skinned knees together than he could count running along platform corridors and down ladders.

She'd always been a bit of tomboy. But things had changed over the years. Well mainly Christine had changed from a gangly girl to a woman with long blonde hair, soft brown eyes, and a curvy figure overnight it seemed.

Marcus, now a tall, lanky seventeen year old, eventually stopped asking the younger Cole to come along and luckily the younger boy got the clue. But not without making his own biting ribs at his older brother's abandonment of him at every opportunity, of course. 

The last few years Marcus and Christine had been more serious, even discussing running off together when her father's overbearing nature got to be too much, but they both knew it was folly. They were both too young and inexperienced in life to make it practical. He knew enough about mining to get a job anywhere, but he didn't want to just move to another mine. He didn't want to be a miner, and without a degree to back it up, he'd be down in the tunnels, and that was a death sentence. 

But they still talked like it was a possibility. These grand plans of running away and working their way through the sector in the casinos until they had built enough to go to school full-time. Just to go anywhere easy from low browed, greasy teamsters who smelled like dirt and try to build a life of their own out of her father's grasp.

"Dad gave me the crystals last night. I only have a few days to get there before they start."

"This is about me isn't it. He's sending you away to get you away from me."

She nodded, wiping a tear away. "He only means the best, you have to know that."

"Where?" he asked grinding his teeth. "Where is he sending you off to?"

"MUSI." She said softly. Mars University of Science and Industry was the Martian Equivalent of MIT on Earth. Very prestigious, and a degree from it almost guaranteed a job out of the chute. He was jealous for just a second, then the rage set in.

"Mars! He couldn't have picked any place further away could he?" Marcus growled.

"I picked it," she said softly looking up. "It was that or Jenkins on Performa VIII. He managed to get acceptances to both with his professor friends pulling some strings."

"So YOU picked the one farthest away?" Marcus accused angrily. 

"NO! I picked the best one for the both of us."

"Both of us? With you half a zillion light years away at college, there is no US anymore, Chris."

"No! I thought it all out! Listen!" she pleaded, and he snapped his mouth shut, nostrils flaring. "I'll go now, and you can come for the next semester, Marcus. Then we can be together and Dad can't stop us."

"Mars," he breathed. "It's so far away. And it's not a cheap school either." 

"It's not that expensive. Your dad owns this place, he shouldn't have a problem-"

"My dad makes less than yours, Chris. What money we make pour back into equipment and salaries. The profits belongs to the business, the investors, or to tax collectors - not to us. With that last mining strike for wage increases and all, we're probably the POOREST family on the platform. We just don't have to pay rent, that's the only thing keeping us above water. Last year, he was thinking of selling it just to cut his losses. "

She looked genuinely shocked. "I didn't know."

"And you didn't ask. No one cares if the boss can't make ends meet as long as they get paid two credits more an hour." He frowned, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. "And now With Dad's heart problems, I think I'm stuck here till I die."

"Don't say that!" She cried out, gripping his shoulders, "You deserve a chance to get out of here, too. You're way smarter than I am; you could get in on a scholarship easy. Please. Tell me you'll try. Come with me." 

"Ok, I'll ask Mum. I might have more luck with her," he acquiesced. "I can't promise anything, this is a bad year, but maybe…"

She threw her arms around him and kissed him hard, letting her tongue cross over his, her hands smoothing over his cheeks. She rested her forehead to his and opened her eyes, looking deeply into his. "I love you." Christine said unwaveringly.

"I love you too," He murmured back kissing her once more, and pulling her into a hug, nuzzling her neck.

"We've been together too long to let anything come between us now. We'll make this work," he said into his shoulder. "We will." 

He held her close. He would've liked to agree with her, but sometimes he hated that she was so optimistic all the time. He hated the thought of trying to tell her to be practical, because it would break her heart. So he didn't. 

* * *

He stopped dead in his tracks upon sight of her, watching in stunned silence as she checked her bags past security. Her hair was tinted with red now, and was shorter than even the last time he saw it. But it was her, dressed in a comfortable yet shapely blue business suit that only accentuated her peaches and cream skin, and curvy body. She'd barely aged in all these years. Christine.

She turned to look at the station map kiosk and after a few minutes made through the crowd not noticing the bearded dark stranger watching her intently across the hall. But someone had.

"Ahhh, you have good taste my boy," the richly accented and thoroughly unmistakable voice of the Centauri Ambassador interrupted. "I have always had a thing for redheads myself, but they always end up being trouble."

The Ambassador was well known to him, followed him more times than he could count, but he was not known by the Ambassador. It could be very dangerous for him if the Ambassador knew about him. 

"My fourth wife is one such example. Tried to kill me, on my own ascension day! Of all the nerve. But, I do miss her on rare occasion." He wagged his bushy eyebrows suggestively. "If you know what I mean."

Instead of answering, Marcus watched her well-shaped form leave, "I thought it was someone I knew, that's all."

"By the look on your face I would say you were pretty sure of it. You never forget a redhead, trust me."

"It was along time ago," Marcus said, "and she used to be Blonde… it ended badly." 

"They always ends badly. Once a redhead, always a redhead – trouble all of them. Still, the years never 'take the bite out of it' as your people say, do they?" The hefty man slapped Marcus's back "Come! I will buy you a drink!" He closed his hand around Marcus's lower arm.

"I can't really, I have-" the Ranger attempted to beg off.

"Nonsense! One drink! Maybe two…to lost loves, ah? So simple a request."

"Aren't you waiting for someone?" Marcus asked, him trying to fathom an excuse.

"My Aide, who if you ask me is old enough to get off a ship by himself, but here I am. He will live if he has to walk himself home."

Marcus shook his head; he really couldn't be socializing with the Ambassador, no matter how friendly he seemed to be. He knew Londo Mollari 'on paper', and he was more than met the eye. 

"I'm sorry, some other time?" Marcus pointed his thumb after Chris' form. "I should at least say hello."

"Suit yourself!" The Ambassador waved his hand dispassionately. "GO, go! Maybe your redhead will be less trouble than mine have been." 

As Marcus followed her down the hall, he heard the Ambassador cry out most aggrivated, "Vir! Over here you melon head!"


	2. Chapter 2: Arrivals

_Stepping into the arrival gate, he was assaulted with color and noise. More than he was used to after years on Arissia and it's brown dust coating over everything and the air filled with the heavy drone of equipment and life support. He took a step back to reassess it all. _

"Marcus!" 

At the far end of the corridor he spotted her running for him. It was Christine in a flowery light colored dress. He couldn't help it, but his jaw dropped.

She'd always a bit of a tomboy; she needed to be in an orbiting testosterone factory. Always seen cavorting around the platform in jeans and tech jump suits, much happier to get greasy to her neck to see how something worked than wear a skirt, or do anything slightly resembling feminine. She'd cut her hair shorter than her last stellar com three weeks ago, to a bob at her chin that gave her a pixyish appearance. She was quite possibly the loveliest thing he'd ever seen.

"Chris!" He cried out dropping his bags and gathered her into his arms and swung her around in a huge circle, kissing her cheek which was the only part of her face present at his lips at the time. He pulled her in a bear hug to him, lifting her high off her toes. "God, I missed you," he whispered with a relieved exhale. He smiled squeezing her even closer to him.

It was then he began to feel eyes on him. Opening them again, he saw a dark haired male in a dark zip up jacket approaching from behind her, watching. He was only a year or two older than Marcus and Chris themselves. Marcus slowly released her, letting her back on her feet.

"Uhm, hello, and this is-?" Marcus asked forcing on a smile, feeling his stomach beginning to fill with acid.

Just then he saw her happy façade break into a nervous frown "Marcus. This is Ben, my roommate. I told you about him." Her eyes pleaded with him.

'Roommate? Is that what they call them these days?' Marcus thought as he felt the invisible fist slam into his gut three or five times. And, no, she most certainly had NOT mentioned him. He would have remembered THAT. That must have been why she seemed so distracted last call. The look on the man's face definitely said more than "rooming" was going on. 

He felt as if he'd made the most serious mistake of his life coming here now. He thrust out a hand putting on his most polite smile. He'd have words with her about this, just wait. But not here. 

"Nice to finally meet you, Ben." He even managed for it not to sound contrived.

"So, you're the Marcus she keeps talking on and on about," Ben smiled genuinely now that the threat was obviously averted, pulling Chris to his side, his arm around her shoulders. The invisible fist got in a few more good shots. "Nice to finally meet you."

"Yeah, that would be me," he said softly feeling the world suddenly spinning. "So where to now?" he asked pointedly looking to Chris, who looked away and up to Ben.

"I bet you're starved from the trip, and that Liner food is awful. How does dinner sound?" Ben asked, looking to Chris for confirmation. 

She nodded. "I know just the place. Jung's"

Ben nodded back enthusiastically, "Oh, perfect." He looked to Marcus. "Like Chinese? They make the best Dimsum on Mars."

"Sounds ideal," he said looking once more at Christine, who darted her eyes away shamefully. A small ball of hot anger settled into the hole made by the invisible fists. This was definitely not what he had planned for his first hours with Christine after a year apart and their only contact via long mails and static-laced stellarcoms. 

He picked up his suitcase, his mind turned to the ring box tucked safely inside it as he followed them down the concourse, wishing he could be anywhere but where he was now. 

* * *

After a bit of research he found her in the incoming passenger arrivals list. Her name was Christine Jenkins now, so she'd married Ben after all. It also mentioned she now had two boys, ages seven and four. She was a doctor, a medical researcher, specifically, here to see Dr. Franklin. He couldn't find a reason why though. 

He wasn't sure how he'd approach her yet. If at all. All he knew right now was he needed a drink, and didn't want to go to any of the usual unscrupulous places where he might be called to duty, so he chose the casino. Loud and bright enough anyone could slip into the shadows. He just wanted to be alone. Where else to be alone but in a crowd?

He was sitting alone in the corner playing a game video poker at his table when he heard a boisterous shout. "AH! My boy!" 

He looked up to see the round Centauri Ambassador winding his way towards him. "I was wondering about you. And here you are. Did you find your redhead?"

"Just missed her," he lied.

"I am sorry. Let me buy you a drink." The ambassador raised his arm to the cocktail waitress. 

Marcus raised his full glass with a grimace. "I've got one."

"Well then, let me buy you a bottle! Always good to plan ahead! Waitress! A bottle of your finest Bravari!" he called out, taking a seat across from Marcus. 

Marcus couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, Ambassador."

"I wasn't aware I had introduced myself," The Centauri asked puzzled.

Marcus quickly covered, "Who staying here doesn't know the Centauri Ambassador?" 

The older man's mood darkened significantly. "Yes, yes of course. But, there was a time, not so long ago, when not even my own government knew who I was. Maybe that was for the better. I am no longer sure." Marcus was suddenly curious, and wanted to ask him to elaborate, but said nothing. "But please, all my friends call me Londo. I would ask you to do the same."

Marcus felt an undisguised empathy for the older dignitary. He wasn't sure he could quite explain it, but he actually felt sorry for him. THIS Londo Mollari was NOT the person he knew on paper. There was something lost and lonely about him that did not fit the profile – an indiscernibly sad something. He couldn't help but put on a wide soft smile and offered his hand. 

"Nice to meet you Londo, I'm Marcus." The thing was, he meant it. 

The older man shook it heartily, a genuine smile on his fanged lips. The Bravari arrived with two clean glasses, and Londo uncorked it and poured them both half full. 

He held out one to Marcus, and held his own aloft. "As your people say, 'Women. Can't live with them, can't shoot them'." A great riotous cackle of joy filled the room coming from the man only moments before so heavily shaded in darkness.

They poured back their drinks and Londo immediately refilled them. Londo told Marcus a few stories about his wives, and even a few girlfriends and then finally slugging his fifth or sixth Bravari he leaned back and observed his companion heavily. 

"So what do you do for a living, Marcus?"

He quickly fabricated a lie. "Security Consultant."

"So, you're a what then? A body guard?"

He nodded, "Sometimes. Sometimes I act as a courier. Find lost items. Whatever clients need. It pays the bills." He shrugged, conveying he didn't think it was worth talking about. The thing was, it wasn't terribly far from the truth most days.

"Is that a uniform you are wearing then? It looks vaguely… Minbari."

"Yeah, my company hired this hot-shot Minbari designer to make the uniforms. Awful aren't they?" he held up one edge of his duster, looking indignant.

"I have often found the Minbari's idea of fashion to be an experiment in seeing how silly they can make people look."

Marcus chuckled hoarsely. "To top it all off, they itch too." He scratched at the turtleneck; he wasn't lying there. They did itch. Something awful.

"Maybe I will hire you sometime! I do not wish to say I am un-liked, but let's just say… I am not very popular sometimes."

He thought if he could get on the inside of Londo Mollari, he could offer some valuable insight. But he had to continue carefully. It would also give him time to create the proper Identa-file to match.

"I'm just here for few weeks at a time at most usually, but I'm back in the area quite often. I can send my information to your babcom if you wish, of course, and let you know when I run these parts again." 

"Please do!" he thumped his empty glass own and began to refill it once more. "Now! Tell me about your redhead! How she broke your heart! All the gory details! I am rapt with attention!"


	3. Chapter 3: Lies

_Dinner went well despite the massive ulcer he felt trying to burn its way out of him to sit and bear this all silently. He wasn't surprised when Chris didn't follow him when he split off after dinner._

He walked for along time then retuned the quarters she and Ben shared. He couldn't go in, so unsure where to go next, tired, angry, he just sat down. He'd been in the hallway outside their small apartment for hours now, his arms behind his head trying quiet his nerves. What the hell was he doing here? What kind of idiot was he? He should have seen this coming.

He heard the door slip open and light steps behind him, "Marcus?" her voice sounded worried. "I thought you went on a walk."

"I did. I'm back now," he snapped crisply not even looking at her. He could see from the corner of his eye she was wearing her nightgown.

"Why didn't you come back in?" She sat the trash bag she'd been carrying back in side the doorway and signaled the door to close behind her. They were alone in the corridor. "Are you ok?"

He shook his head. He couldn't believe she'd just asked that. He'd almost put his family in the poorhouse to get him here, demanding that they send him to school so he could escape the fate they'd built for him. He'd acted like a love struck fool, coming all the way from the rim to be with her, and now she was flaunting someone else on her arm? "Just peachy," he growled rising and marching down the hall.

She chased after in her nightgown. "Okay, I understand that you're mad," she observed.

"Shouldn't I be?" he asked looking up only slightly. "You tell me Chris. You told me, no, begged me, to come and now… this BEN person. Why Am I even here? Why didn't you tell me? I could have saved my family a lot of trouble and expense by staying home and helping them instead of DEMANDING I be sent here to school. To be with you."

"Ben and I are just friends. You have to believe -"

"Don't lie to me! I'm stupid, evidently, but not blind!" he yelled harshly, beginning to pace, throwing out his arm toward the doors to the apartment. "I saw those looks you gave him and how he touched you at dinner." He closed his eyes to regain his composure. "How long has this been going on?"

"What?"

"Four weeks ago I last spoke to you and it was like old times. Now I finally arrive as planned, except all the plans have changed without my knowing."

She didn't answer.

"How long?" he asked again sterner.

"April."

"Six months?! You've been carrying on that long? Do you love him?"

After a long silence she looked up mournfully, "I don't love him like I love you."

'Oh, that's not exactly comforting,' he mumbled to himself.

She started to cry, and that hurt him, too; she never cried, she wasn't one of those weepy girls on the vids who cried at the drop of a hat. She wasn't normally emotional. That fact she was crying told him she was sincere. But, it didn't solve anything.

"I didn't mean for this to happen! We WERE just roommates, but then things changed. If you'd come when you were supposed to-"

"Don't you EVEN TRY to pin this on me!" he roared, jumping to his feet pointing at her. "I got here as fast as I could. Yes, it was one semester later than planned, I know that's SO off schedule! How often did we talk since you left? Every month at least? Sometimes more. How many times could you have told me about this? How soon could I have avoided making this mistake?"

"Mistake? I'm a mistake now?"

"No, I'm the mistake obviously by the looks of it."

"You don't understand –"

"Understand? WHAT'S TO UNDERSTAND? Do you UNDERSTAND what I went through? What my parents SOLD or mortgaged to even get me here? What kind of ASS I made of myself so I could come here to be with you? So we 'could be together' finally!" He made large flourishy quotes marks to the sky around him, "No, of course you don't'! You were here! With BEN! Playing house!"

"I never intended that to happen, I thought you weren't coming!"

"Bullshit! Six months ago you knew I was coming, Chris!" 

She didn't answer she only stared at the floor, silently sobbing.

"I didn't go out and try to replace YOU, did I? But then I was stuck on a rust bucket with 300 grimy men, but then maybe I didn't try hard enough." he raged. With nostrils flaring wide he delivered his final attack. "I'm sorry I ever met you."

She reached out a hand to his cheek and he flinched away. "Don't. say that..." It came out nothing more than a squeak. "I can fix this. Just give me a few days… I can fix all this," she whispered quickly like mantra. 

Her words chilled his spine, waking him from his thoughts and he pulled away. "No, you can't make it all better with a wave of your hand. If you love him, you love him, Christine. That's the end of it."

He turned around and began pacing behind her, his arms crossed tightly in front of him. "You always wanted to please your father so badly. I'm sure he's very happy right now." It was a cold and backhanded thing to say, but he wanted to say it, to hurt her just a bit. Just a fraction of how she'd hurt him. 

"Truth be told," he whispered, "I like Ben, for the little time I got to know him. I think we could have even been friends, if that means anything." He opened the door to apartment and walked in. She followed him looking like a whipped puppy. He stopped to try to make amends. "I wish you both the best." He said coolly, picking up his bags.

"Where are you going to go? The dorms don't open for another week!" she cried, chasing after him into the apartment lobby. 

"No Idea. I guess I'll have Mum and Dad sell another cargo loader so I can get a hotel room," he spat back pointedly, walking off towards the transit tube. He hadn't wanted to say that, but it was the truth as to how he'd got here to begin with. His parents had basically sold or re-mortgaged everything they had to finance his education. Being good parents and going above and beyond so their son had one better than them. They wanted him to find a chance for a life on his own. He owed them a big one, and he'd not soon forget it.

He wouldn't be contacting his parents though, no need to add insult in injury, he knew what to sell for the money he needed - the ring. Not like he'd be needing it now, would he?

"Marcus!" she cried after, breaking into tears, slinking to the floor in the open lobby and sobbing uncontrollably. "Don't leave me."

He didn't look back. 

* * *

"Good Morning, Doctor!" Marcus called out entering the medlab. "How are we today?"

"Why are you so cheerful? What's wrong?"

"Such a pessimist!" Marcus said, smiling. He looked around and hitched one hand up on his hip. "I did have a question though."

"Oh oh,. Here it comes."

"No, no, nothing bad, just…" he bit his lip and looked up. "What do you know about Dr. Christine Jenkins?"

"Why?" Stephen was honestly surprised.

"It's not anything sordid or shadowy, I assure you."

Stephen exhaled thinking. "Well, I know she's working with Dr. Kyle back on earthdome. Came to get my data on the Markab Plague for a research paper on communicable catastrophic alien diseases, which was no simple feat under the blockades let me tell you, why?"

Marcus bit his lip again, the looked hesitantly to his friend. 

Franklin Smiled. "Come on, you can tell me."

He gave in feeling a sheepish smile slip on his face, "We grew up together. I saw her the other day when she arrived and wasn't quite sure what to say. You know me, I like to know what I'm up against before I open my yap."

"She broke your heart, huh?"

Marcus' eyebrows rose. He didn't think he'd made it that obvious. "Very long story," he said coldly, letting him know he WAS NOT going to elaborate. He knew Stephen would push it otherwise.

"So, you don't want to know she's single then," Franklin sang, wagging his eyebrows.

"Definitely not!" Marcus retorted back, then looked up with a curious twinkle. "Since when?" he smiled.

"I have no idea, but I know she was talking about having to leave soon, because the kids were at her Mom and Dad's since she was single again. I have to say you have, or had, very good taste. Brilliant, and beautiful… those don't stay on the market long. So don't take a long time to make up your mind or there might be a line."

The Ranger stroked his chin. Single. He hadn't seen that in the file. "Well, thank you, Stephen, but I've become rather used to lines. Anyway, I have to get down below I have a three o'clock."

"You going to at least say hello?"

"Possibly," he said deep in thought. "Been a long time. Won't change anything if I did. Uhm, I'd appreciate it if you kept this under your hat, don't go talking to her about it." 

"My lips are sealed."


	4. Chapter 4: Familiar Voices

_"Cole, M.!"_

He looked up from his desk, raising his arm. "Here!"

The mail officer rolled his cart over and handed him a small box with his name and base location on it. It was from Christine. Inside was a data crystal. He placed it in the viewer, not noticing he was holding his breath.

"Hi Marcus. God I miss you, I hope you're still talking to me. You never mail me anymore since you got drafted. You must be really busy defending all of us back here," she said on the screen. Marcus wasn't sure himself. "I've got news, I hope you can be happy for me, Ben asked me to marry him."

"Well, that's enough of that," Marcus said popping out the crystal and tucking it in his pocket. This he would have to take in small doses with lots of alcohol.

"Dear John Letter?" Neil asked leaning in. Neil Kendall was a skinny kid from Canada. And about as close a friend as Marcus had in EF. He was the same age and sat next to him in Intel Ops. Together they were in charge of maintaining an up to date Minbari Culture intelligence database. It was boring work and Neil was the chatty sort.

"No. We had a Dear John Conference a year ago, complete with posters and descriptive diagrams," Marcus grumbled.

"Were you with her long?"

"Only about ten years." Seeing the right look on Neil's face as he tried to do the math, he continued, "We grew up together."

"Aw, that's sweet," Neil cooed. "Childhood sweethearts."

"Shut up, Neil," Marcus snapped, getting back to work.

Twenty minutes later Neil tapped his shoulder. "So what happened?"

"What?"

"With the girl."

Marcus sighed. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"No. What happened?"

Seeing there was no way past Neil's obnoxious nosiness. "When I finally came to join her there last year she'd met BEN. I went there a semester then I got drafted. And here I am. Lovely Downtown Io."

"Did you kick his ass?"

He rolled his eyes, "No, I happened to like him a lot, as luck had it. Real nice fellow. I wished her all the best and made a speedy departure."

"Man, that sucks."

"Thanks for reiterating that point, Neil," Marcus smiled sarcastically.

"You gonna go to the wedding?"

Marcus looked around the Special Ops office, then at Neil. "No. I think I'm going to be a bit busy, with the war and all."

"Oh yeah," he said. "You should at least send a card."

Marcus nodded, "I'll get right on that." He rolled his eyes, then mumbled under his breath, "When pigs fly."

"Cole! Kendall! You boys got a problem deciphering that Minbari Warrior Caste book of procedures?" the Executive Officer barked from across the room. 

"No sir," Marcus said giving Neil a scolding glance and turned back to his screen. When the Commander turned away, Marcus reached out a hand ad slapped Neil on the back of the head without even removing his eyes from his work. 

* * *

"Okay, what's up?" Ivanova rumbled, tossing down her sandwich at the Zocolo restaurant where she and the Ranger were having lunch. 

"Excuse me?" he said, looking away from the crowd.

"You're not even paying attention to a word I'm saying. Which is even worse than normal when you hear only what you want to."

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, it's nothing, nothing," he said turning to face her completely, away from Christine buying lunch a few feet away. He wouldn't have agreed to have lunch here if he'd known she'd stop by. He didn't have it all planned as to what, if anything, he'd do. He tried his best not to watch her and stay out of her line of sight.

"Listen, if you have work to do don't let me hold you back," she said with a total absence of malice or sarcasam. She normally was terse for not paying complete attention. "We can do this later."

"Nonsense. Nonsense. Let's get back to the Centauri jumping boundary lines-"

"That was ten minutes ago," Ivanova scowled mockingly, crossing her arms.

He grimaced, biting his lip. "Drazi running guns to Mars?"

She shook her head, with a hint of a smile. In recent months they'd grown in their working relationship. She had grown more casual and obviously more comfortable with his constant presence, and in other ways more on guard. He didn't quite know how to define it really. 

"I'll shut up now," the Ranger said, looking down at his hands. "If you wouldn't mind…Susan," he motioned for her to rewind the conversation and restart what she'd been saying.

Just then Christine turned with a look of recognition over her shoulder. Marcus looked away trying to disappear as she set her tray down a table away and approached the pair gape-jawed, walking in slow cautious steps.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, barely glancing at Ivanova, then back at Marcus, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I heard you talking from over there, and I could swear you sound like I used to -"

Marcus smiled uneasily, glancing from Susan to Chris, then stood slowly, he was sure the women could hear him swallow back his discomfort "Hello Christine," he acknowledged uncomfortably, forcing on a smile.

"Know-" she finished her sentence, her eyes widened, and she let out a sudden exhale that sounded like she'd been punched in the stomach. She put one hand to her chest, the other over her open mouth. Ivanova looked at her like the woman was crazy. 

Marcus froze in place. She just looked at him, examining his face for a few moments despondently. Then Christine grabbed him, and kissed him in a desperate crazed frenzy, lips pressed hard to his shocked own, her hands pulled at the material at his shoulders. 

She finally whispered in a choked gasp, "It is you! You're alive, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!!" She threw her arms around him, gripping him tightly to her, tears running down her face. 

Marcus looked to Susan and tried in a look to pull on a confident smile like this was all just part of the job. Ivanova didn't look convinced.


	5. Chapter 5: Letters from Home

_The war had ended suddenly. He finished his required term of service, and despite the hefty pay increases they were offering to keep ANYONE in the force after all the casualty losses, he gave a definitive 'NO' to re-upping and headed back to the only home he had. Arissia._

It had never been a cheerful place, but now it lacked one major feature it once had. One that had kept him here. Chris. Now it seemed even more morose and dismal. His dad was not doing all that well after his latest heart surgery.

Marcus took over the day-to-day operations with a heavy heart. 

Some had balked about taking orders from a twenty-two year old cocky upstart, but the fact was, Marcus was in charge and they had no choice. And he knew what he was doing. It was little surprise when Chris' dad rendered his resignation citing a better offer. Any sign of her was now completely gone from his life, she didn't have a reason to visit anymore.

Since the war business was beyond slow. The money simply wasn't to be had; it was being used to rebuild Earth's resources. It was no secret layoffs and wage freezes were on the horizon at the colony. He'd done the math, there was no way around it. He'd had left himself if he could have. But no, it was becoming increasingly obvious he was stuck here for the long run. 

He pushed away a stack of papers and heavily leaned on the surface before him, burying his face in his hands wearily letting out a guttural groan of dissention.

"You're much too young to make that kind of noise my boy," his mother's voice roused him from the doorway. 

He looked wearily up, smiling at the older woman. "Hi mum." 

Julia Cole 45 years old by the time his younger brother William came along. Now in her late 60's she was no less beautiful than the young woman he saw in all the old vids from before he was born. She moved more slowly and her hair was more grey than the ebony it had been. She was a bit thicker about the waist now but could be described as nothing but slim and stunning even still. She still turned heads of older men on the station, and few of the younger ones too.

He smiled rubbing his eyes, "How's dad?" He'd been put to bed against his will several hours ago.

"Sleeping, like you should be," she teased, coming up to the desk.

He shook his head, "Can't, got three clients coming in tomorrow, and an inspector from Earth Regulatory."

"All the more reason for you to sleep." Her green eyes scolded him. "It's very rude to doze off in a business meeting you know."

He chuckled. His dad had several times before done that very thing on occasion, it was sort of a family joke now. "Tomorrow, I promise."

She began to cough again. It was always a whole body cough that hurt to watch. Her eyes crammed shut, her face turned a vibrant scarlet as she strained to calm it. 

Marcus jumped to his feet and rushed to her side, leading her to a chair. He rubbed her back and grabbed her hand, as finally the spasms receded. She patted her chest taking in deep breaths. It had been awhile since they were that bad. She'd had a bad spell with a respiratory infection a few years back. Her breathing had never quite come back to normal.

"Will's gonna take you to see the Doctor first thing in the morning," he instructed.

"Nonsense, the air is just so dry in here. I'm fine. I don't need 6 hours flying with that daredevil brother of yours to the nearest EA Medical platform to tell me I have a tickle in my throat."

"Mum," He said cautiously stooping down to check her face.

"Marcus, it's nothing, honest. Dusty, that's all, as usual."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure." She put a hand to her throat and patted his hand as if remembering. "I just came in to give you this. The mail's just arrived." She handed him a small parcel, a data-crystal shipper.

He didn't have to look to see who it was from, the soft look on his mum's face was all he needed to know - it was from Chris. He'd stopped responding to her over a year ago, but she kept messaging him. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"I'm going to turn in now, your Dad's probably wondering where I am, and I don't want him wandering all the way over here to look for me. I'm going to call you in thirty minutes, you best be home. You have a big day tomorrow, you need your rest." She winked, rising to her feet. 

"I'll finish up here as soon as I can. I promise."

"A haircut before they came couldn't hurt either, you know," she chided, walking out, shooting her eldest son a warm glance over her shoulder.

He snickered, shaking his head - it was a constant battle. "All right, all right, if I get the time," he answered exactly as he usually did, but the thing was it was true, he DIDN'T have the time since he'd returned home and took over daily operations. His parents, of course, were always gently teasing him about it and had for years. It had become more of an inside joke as time went on. 

They knew why he'd grown it out originally, and well he wasn't sure why he'd grown it out again since returning from his tour of duty. Habit, he guessed as much as anything. 

Chris had always liked it longer, so he'd gotten used to it to some extent, but even this was a bit too long for his tastes. It would have to be endured a while yet. It had been short while in the service, His assignment in Intel came with some strict guidelines, which had not made his life easier. He wasn't exactly the guideline type. If anything growing it out again was a rebellious act. Maybe it was time to lop it all off and with it last cords of his past, and Chris. 

Marcus turned his attention to the crystal mailer in his hand. He unpackaged it and rolled the delicate looking structure in between his fingers deep in thought. Finally, he re-boxed it and tossed it in unviewed the trash before turning off the lights and leaving for his Spartan quarters. 

* * *

"Commander Susan Ivanova, Christine Adams," Marcus said, introducing the two and trying to make it appear casual. Susan stood, putting on a polite face.

"Jenkins," Chris corrected. "Marcus has a selective memory." She smiled, offering her hand to the stern looking officer.

"I see I'm not the only one to notice that." She shot a snide look at Marcus, then back at Christine. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Jenkins. I take it you and Mr. Cole know each other."

"You could say that, we were uhm… we grew up together." She squeezed his hand. Marcus could feel an inadvertent blush wash over him with that look in her eyes.

Susan smiled and shot Marcus a look that said she was done with this. "Ah, well I hate to be a third wheel at reunions, and it's time for me to head back to C&C anyway. If you will excuse me." She gave a curt bow to them both, and a thinly veiled rolled eye to him that only he would read the true menaing of, and headed away quite swiftly.

"She seems… nice," Chris lied. He could tell she was lying, she always bit her lip, like she was doing now. She then smiled and took the seat vacated by the Commander.

"She is once you get to know her, but until then stay close to a doorway," he warned tongue in cheek. "She's harmless, really."

Chris nodded then focused on him again squeezing his hand hard. "Why didn't you ever contact me to let me know you were ok? I can't tell you how hard it was to think you were gone."

"I'm sorry. After what happened last time I saw you, I didn't think it was a good idea-"

Her face darkened uncomfortably "Ancient history." She put a hand on his chest and struggled to smile. "Really. Forget about it."

He didn't want to discuss that incident anymore. "…And, all my records were on the platform when it exploded," he said truthfully. "and after a few years it didn't seem worth all the trouble."

"They said there were no survivors of the accident." Her brown eyes moved over him in concern. "What happened?"

He grimaced feeling her small warm hand grasped in his once more and a familiar calm he'd not felt in a long time set in. He closed his eyes and began to tell her everything, well almost, she'd never believe all of it anyway.


	6. Chapter 6: Just Dinner

_He watched his father across the dinner table. Marcus doubted the Doctor's medical diagnosis more and more with everytime he saw him. They said he seemed to be making progress with the treatments, but Marcus could see otherwise. He was growing weaker and ever paler every day. _

Grey's Syndrome was particularly nasty. It was essentially modern version of the old Earth Miner's disease, Black lung, only more crippling, debilitating and deadly. It was almost exclusively a disease to human miners of Q-40. Attacking the nervous system, it slowly crippled victims shutting off bodily functions and abilities one by one.

Due to the refinement process of Q-40, a lot of ultra-fine particulate is generated and it worked it's way into seams and items that get handled in the removing of the gear and absorbed into the skin.

Now they had various containment showers and air filtration locks to pass though to lessen the risk and remove nearly all the particulate, but in the early days of earth's Q-40 industry, when his father began, no one knew the risks and the techniques they used in the old days introduced toxic amounts into their systems. Thirty years ago the disease began to get notice, and only now where there any sort of medical treatments. Not that they did much other that prolong the inevitable. Many men afflicted chose to take their own lives once a diagnosis was given them. It was a fate worse than death.

Marcus often wondered if it would get him too. He rarely went into the mines, or to the other platform the Orbitbal refinery, and never without the most top-notch health precautions and procedures. The sad fact was the fine particulate off the ore worked its way into everything one way or another, no matter how many washes and vacuum lock you trod through before removing your suit you could never be totally rid of it. There could usually be found a fine sheen of a silvery powder over most the inhabitants platform surfaces. No amount of atmospheric scrubbers would ever be able to remove it, it was simply too fine to be filtered out completly. 

That fine silt was a constant reminder of his family's proud - if not sometimes tragic - heritage. He came from a long and long line of Miners. Seven generations of coal miners in Great Britain and Wales, and 2 generations more in space. Unfortunately, it was never far from his thoughts that most died from it's occupational hazards - mine collapses, lung diseases, gas explosions or leaks… no, the life of a Cole man was not a long one normally. One reason he had tried so hard to escape. 

The dream of all wishful young boys - To escape your fathers fate and not make the same choices or mistakes. To live truly on your own rules and by your own hand. Try as he might, He was growing evermore aware this would be his life as well. 

Love had lured him away, duty had pulled him as far from here as one could get from this hellhole, but obligation had drawn him back. He owed his parents. It was his part in the family saga to continue the line, like it or not.

His father noticed him watching, "What'cha dreaming about there, boy?" 

"Nothing. Just thinking, Da," he said softly digging a spoon in his bowl, uninterested in his cereal.

"Tha's not a look of thinkin' about nothin'." He smiled, his deep set eyes sparkling with a humor his father always seemed to endow now matter what. He sat down his cup. "You know, you boys been working awfully hard. I think you two should take that new XO-80 and spend a few days over on Centauri Prime. Might be good if you boys got a little sun on you."

Marcus was intrigued by this line of conversation for a mere moment until reality snapped him back, "Can't. We've got some big shipments to get out and we're short-handed in Containment."

"You know, it's uhm, Gunratto time over there," He tried to casually mention. "Could be fun." His father's eyebrows rose suggestively.

Marcus's jaw fell in abject dismay. "Dad!"

The spring breaks on Earth and Mars were nothing compared to the all out and debauchery of Gunratto. Young Centuari flooded the beaches of the southern provinces for a month long celebration of sex and indulgence the likes of which would probably remain unequaled for several more generations. Humans from as far as five jumps away, including Earth, had heard about the traditional month long festivities and began joining the party as well several years ago, it was THE party of the Allied worlds. 

"Well, you're not going to meet any young women here god knows, and now that the Adams girl has run off…Well, you're a young man you should be taking advantage of that while you can."

"Dad!" he protested in disbelief.

"Just a suggestion. You're a good looking young man, you shouldn't be stuck out here in your prime. There's a whole galaxy out there son, life's too short to be stuck on this thing without seeing some of it first."

"I just got back from seeing far more than I liked."

"War's over, you should be celebratin' being alive. Not many can say that you know. You should do some living, take it from a dying man." He wagged his finger at him.

"Stop talking like that."

"Why? You think I don't know? Hell, if I was your age I'd go to Gunratto with you. You only live once you know."

"I'm not going to Gunratto!" The older son exasperated.

"Will ya at least go somewhere for a few days and relax?" he asked simply? "Life's not about work."

"Da." The younger Cole moaned.

"Markie, I'm asking, please, just take some time off, while you can. I don't want you wasting your best years. I know you, once I'm gone you won't find the time."

He furrowed his brow watching his father's sincere face, "Alright, maybe. There's a new sector that been charted not too far from here. Looked interesting. Maybe I can go explore a couple of them. Might find new location to mine. Bet I can talk Will into it."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go to Gunratto?" 

* * *

He bent over the bowl and splashed off the stray hairs best he could with the tiny trickle of water from the faucet. His rose, patting his face and neck dry with a small towel. Running his hand over his freshly trimmed face he smoothed all the hairs back into place, jutting his jaw out to examine the results in the mirror as he did so. 

He'd done this a thousand times, but this one gave him both a sense of familiar fear and dizzying exhilaration he'd long thought he'd abandoned. He was going on a date with Christine. Hell, just that fact he was going on a date at all was rather stupefying by itself.

Not a date he reminded himself, it was just a dinner to catch up some more from their brief reunion in the Zocalo earlier in the day. She'd invited him out and before he could think about saying no, the time and place were set. 1600 hours, Fresh Air.

He stared at the face in the mirror. So different than the last time he'd prepared for such an occasion, he almost thought he was seeing a stranger. He'd not LOOKED at himself in a very long time, now he knew why. 

Other than the length of his hair and the fairly recent addition of the beard - he was thinner, paler, and most notably older than the last time he'd really looked at himself. His face becoming more angular, and haggard than he'd remembered it being just two years or so ago. His mother would called his look "world weary", he would have just said tired and beaten. How close to the truth was that? He'd seen and done too much to ever think he would ever look any differently again. Any wide eyed innocence of his youth was long since departed. 

He wondered if his own mother would even recognize him now were she around. Chris certainly hadn't until she heard his voice. He wasn't sure he was even the same person anymore. So much darkness from then till now. So many things to change a man in so little time.

Off in the distance he heard a chime. He shook his head to bring him back to the present. He shut off the tap and walked into the living room, pulled his white undershirt he wore under his scratchy Minbari uniform back on to cover his bare chest and called for the door to open.

Stephen walked in carrying a handful of colorful shirts on hangers. "I'm not Mr. Blackwell, but I think one these might do the job."

"Jesus, Stephen how many did you bring?" He'd asked his friend to borrow a shirt for the occasion since he realized past a uniform and some workout fatigues he had nothing to wear, let alone anything suitable for Fresh Air. He always thought the Doctor always had a good sense of style when he would once in a blue moon see Stephen out of his scrubs. Marcus on the other hand freely admitted to himself had the fashion sense of a gnome. He wasn't too proud to ask for help when he knew he was over his head. "I only need one, you know." 

"Well… I wasn't sure which one you'd like, so I brought a few," he held out a hand stopping Marcus's next protest. "Just bear with me, you did ask for professional help."

"I think you NEED professional help," He mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that. You asked me for help, I'm helping." The doctor laid out the assortment on the bed "Well go on. They might be big for you though."

"I don't exactly have time to go shopping - that's why you're here -remember?" No one will notice anyway, Marcus thought looking over the half dozen shirts, all in rather obnoxious bright colors. He had to wonder if Stephen was color blind. "Didn't have anything... uhm, darker?" 

"You're not trying to blend in tonight. Trust me. Just pick one."

"Just dinner, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"Pick," He said looking unimpressed, pointing to the bed.

"Okay! Okay!" Marcus looking to the fanned out selection. He grimaced. "They're all so, I dunno..."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "Tick tock, tick tock! Do I need to remind you that you have ten minutes to get there?"

Marcus grabbed the green shirt. It was closest. "This one."

"My work here is done." He said scooping up the rest. "See you tomorrow at breakfast - hopefully not, if everything works out…" The doctor wagged his eyebrows slapping the Ranger on the back

He scowled to the ceiling, throwing his arms back. "It's just dinner!"

"Yeah. Right." Then he looked at Marcus and then the shirt he held with a frown. He grabbed the hanger with the green shirt and pushed a bold blue one in his grip. "Much better. Good luck." He said departing as quickly as he arrived. 

Marcus stared after dumbfounded and then looked down at the cobalt blue shirt in his hand. After examining it hard he gave it a noncommittal shrug. It was a nicer color than the one he'd picked he guessed. He began to change.


	7. Chapter 7: Dying Inside

_Marcus pulled at the collar of his shirt with a finger. It'd been several years since he last wore it and it didn't fit like it used to. He wished for all the world he didn't have to wear it at all, but wakes were special occasions that required suits and shirts that fit snugly if they must. _

He'd had a lot of time to prepare for his father's funeral. They had to give people time to travel so far out to pay respects so this memorial ceremony was planned for a few weeks after he died. 

Now, he had nothing left to give and it only hurt to bring it back up. He would always mourn his father, but there was nothing to do but pick up the pieces and move on. He'd just been staring at the floor consumed in his own thoughts about schedules, personnel and budgetary concerns blankly shaking the hands that filed as they offered mumbled words of condolence. He stopped listening a while ago, it was depressing enough to see his picture up on the wall and the urn holding his remains. 

Suddenly, William elbowed him, "Danger, danger. Two o'clock," he whispered leaning in, nodded towards his right, then away nonchalantly nodding to the newest consoling visitor, one of the senior linemen.

Marcus looked out of the corner of his eye to his brother and saw the hint of warning. He raised his eyes and saw a slim blonde form headed his way. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Great just what I needed." He pulled on his most amicable, but sad smile and greeted her as she approached.

"I was shocked when I heard. I'm so sorry," she said softly, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a hard hug. "I can't imagine how this must be for you," she whispered in his ear. Her hot breath on his neck drove a knife into his heart out of the old memories it dredged up as she gave him another strong hug.

"Thanks for coming. I appreciate your concern," he recited for the hundredth time today. He pulled away, her hands falling into his. He looked up at the picture of his dad on the small alter. And the small container of his remains next to it. Nick Cole was such a bigger than life man - now reduced to his very elements in a small steel cylinder. Just didn't seem fair.

"Was he sick long?"

"Well, his heart was bad for the past several years, but he was diagnosed with Grey's just before I got out of EF," he said. "Didn't really start to show until a year or so ago, I guess." 

The fact she had not let go of his hands yet was making him a little uncomfortable. He wriggled his hands free, shoving them in his pockets. She showed the saddened insult on her face, but to her credit said nothing. 

At this point his mother Julia who stepped forward to say hello and thanking Christine for coming so far, steering her out of line and away from her son. William leaned over, "Mum to the rescue. Now's your chance to make a break for it." He hoarsely suggested, being sure to not be too loud.

"Shut up, Willy." Marcus snapped. The use of the nickname the younger Cole hated was a warning his brother didn't fail to miss.

His mother shot him a supportive glance talking to Chris, she HAD come over to give him a chance at escape. God love her. He nodded with a sly smile and wandered off towards he bathroom. He couldn't hide from her indefinitely but he could get some breathing room for a few minutes.

Closing the door behind him he growled, and unbuttoned his top button, it was just too ill-fitting to stand any more. It would stay open, he didn't care what people thought.

The bathroom was small, nothing more than a box big enough to turn around in really. He sat on the counter to the side of the sink and leaned back against the wall, kicking his feet up on the toilet lid, and gave a hard stretch. 

He reached into the medicine cabinet to his right and pulled out a small flask of whiskey. His dad always kept it there. 'What's more medicinal than whiskey, Aye?' he'd ask with his hard country Welsh accent. His dad. He'd miss him. He'd been a hard man to be raised by, but he never doubted where his heart was – everything he did he did for his 'boys'.

Marcus held up the small metal container. It was a family heirloom. It'd come from England with his great great grandfather, passed through the family and totted half way across the glaxy. It was his now as the eldest descendant. He let the last of the contents trickle down his throat. He swallowed and let out an exalted sigh. Nope, he wasn't quite ready to go back out yet. 

* * *

They had talked for what seemed like hours at the restaurant, catching up on all the pertinent info over many glasses of wine. She updated him on her parents, talked fondly about her three boys, complete with pictures. All dark haired boys with their mother's eyes. A pang of intense jealousy reeled it's head for just a moment as he looked on them, they could've been his children had things gone differently. Had fate not decided to play with him.

She had been pregnant when she learned of the explosion on Arissia and when she gave birth she named her newborn son Marc, after him. He was turning three in October, and looked like handful. She took the picture out of her wallet and gave it to him, saying she wanted him to have it. "I can get another copy at home." She explained, "You should have a picture of your namesake."

It had evidentially been a major sticking point in her and Ben's marriage, her naming their youngest after her old flame. That one that was just another log in the fire that eventually spelled destruction for the marriage that was already on the rocks.

He managed to get her to update him on some of the most recent issues on Earth and Mars-dome claiming he'd been so busy he wasn't able to catch any news feeds. It didn't sound bad, but nearly all the inhabitants had this rosy outlook as they had so much of the truth withheld. He knew what filter to use to decipher what she was saying.

As the waiter left with their empty plates she picked up her wine drained the remains of her third glass. She leaned forward across the table towards him. Marcus couldn't help but notice this motion only revealed more of her well rounded cleavage in her already fairly lowcut dress. 

When she'd arrived in a black dress that hugged every curve Marcus suddenly knew this was NOT going to be a reunion redux. This wasn't the dinner he'd managed to talk himself into believing, this was definitely a date. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that.


	8. Chapter 8: Closing time

_The remaining hours ticked by, the few remaining stragglers conversed in close huddles in the far corners of the small chapel and he at last unbuttoned the top button of his shirt thankfully sinking down onto the bench along one wall. William had prodded their mother to bed not long ago and had returned to sweep the chapel, but kindly left him to his own to take a breather._

Too weary to move, Marcus rested his head on wall. He felt someone sit next to him. He knew who. He'd spent most of the evening purposefully avoiding her.

He yawned, "You didn't have to come you know." He lazily opened his eyes, lolling his head to one side to look at her. "This was mainly just for Mum's sense of tradition."

"I know."

His face breaking into a deep yawn, he smacked his thighs, rising." It's late. And, you probably need a place to stay. I'll get you a code to your parents' old apartment - it's still empty. It might be a bit dusty though."

"I haven't been gone so long as to for get that!" she joked. The dust on the inhabitants platform was legendary, and it got in absolutely everything.

They left the chapel and made way to his office where he programmed a new keycard for her old apartment and handed it to her. "Here you go. If you want I'll walk you over and show you some of the changes we've made since you were here last."

"I'd like that," she smiled widely, following him out. He showed her the new cafeteria and the video hall that sat fifty. Stopping at the door he swiped the card and handed it to her as the door raised up.

She looked inside, seeing only a few bare spots along the wall as her parents left most of the larger furniture since they couldn't ship it along to the new location. "My god! You didn't touch a thing. Freaky!"

He chuckled. "Well no reason to really until we replace Don. Unfortunately we can't afford that quite yet, but no one is really applying, anyway." He pointed behind the small kitchenette, it was filled with boxes. "We do use it for a bit of storage though."

"So why don't you move into it?" she asked. "If no one else is using it I mean."

"The cost of powering it up for just myself is money I need in other places right now." He had a decent sized closet on level 4 that was probably more than he and his meager belongings needed anyway. "We barely have our heads above water since the war. Well, I should let you tuck in." He went to the metal cupboard and after searching around a second pulled out a stiff clear wrapped bundle with a triumphant "Ah-ha!" Vac-packed linens – a complete bed in a bag.

"For clients who need a place to stay while we load the ships," he explained said pulling the rip-strip, and removing the plastic. Within a few moments it had swelled to four times it's size as air filled the pillow inside once again. A soft waft of fake flowers from the laundry detergent used to wash them probably years ago now.

She took the bundle from him, her eyes probing his uncomfortably.

"Well, you're all set. I should let you tuck in-" he began to step back, she advanced.

"Ok, Confession time, come here," She said reaching for his hand and pulling him to sit next to her on the bed. He waited for the shoe to drop.

"I didn't come for Nick's Wake. I didn't even know about it until I arrived. Jay told me when I walked into the gate. I came to see you, Marcus. I've missed you so much, I just had to come and see you again before school started up again." She squirmed a bit in her seat, turning to face him more fully Chris looked up into his eyes. "I would have come anyway if I'd known though - I liked your Dad."

He didn't quite know what to say; so he said nothing.

"I had the time off and seeing how you never write me back…I thought I'd drop by. Did you get any of my messages?"

Anger began to well up in him. "I got them all right," he growled. "And don't you dare give me any grief over my doing what you wanted."

"No. You did what you wanted. I don't recall having any say in the matter. I never wanted you not to talk to me again. I know you were mad at me, I can appreciate that and I can even agree you deserved to be, but you could have at least written after the war was up to let me know you were okay. I was worried sick. I had to contact EarthGov to be sure you weren't on the lists. I only started sending messages here hoping you'd be here or you Mom would send them to you."

The hint of sadness in her voice did not escape his notice. His anger subsided, he shoved his hands in his pockets. "She did. Sorry, You're right - I should have at least dropped a line. Yeah I was mad, hell yes I was. But once I got out of the Force, I just wanted to start over - a clean break. Didn't seem any reason to go backwards, you know?"

"But you're still here."

His green eyes flared in anger again. "Where else did I have to go, aye? University didn't exactly pan out, Dad got sick and Mum's not too much better, Will is unreliable at best. I'm all hey have to keep this place afloat. It's because of me it's sinking as badly as it is."

"What about you? What do you want, Marcus? All you ever said growing up was how much you wanted out of here."

"I owe them. End of story. Mum and dad sacrificed everything to get me to MUSI, and it didn't workout. He wanted to retire three years ago? Couldn't. Because I was away chasing fairy tales about 'happy ever after', and doing my 'duty'. He couldn't take it easy and he got sick, how do think that made me feel? That if I'd been here, it might not have happened."

"His getting sick is not your fault!"

"No, most of the problems we're having are the war and my leaving to begin with. The money being the main one. I need to get the place back on track before I can think of leaving, I owe them that much. I have to repay what I owe them," He took a deep inhale letting his anger pour out of him and started again with now without malice in his voice staring at the small gold heart pendant around her neck. He'd never seen it before, he didn't have to guess who gave it to her. "Is that why you left me for Ben?"

"What?" She asked taken aback.

"Is that why? You thought I'd never leave Arissia."

"No." She said softly stroking his arm. "That's not it at all."

Marcus bit his lip and after a few moments of silence spoke again, "You know what the worst part is? I never had you to begin with. It was all for nothing."

She just watched him with her bottomless blue eyes burning a hole in him, he couldn't look at them anymore, it hurt to. 

"The part that hurts the most is you never wanted me. Not enough to actually be with me. I know that now, I was stupid to ever think you did." He could hear his voice crack, rising in pitch ever so slightly at the very end as his jaw quivered with the confession. He struggled to keep it in check. He would not cry in front of her. Not after all this.

He felt her hand creep up his shoulder and raised his head in shock as she slipped it around the back of his neck "Ben and I broke up. I never stopped missing you." She pulled his head down to hers, their lips meeting softly.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, he felt himself begin to reciprocate in the warm pleasurable embrace. His tongue rolled smoothly over hers, his hands caressing her slim back, lifting her up and against him tighter. 

* * *

"So, we've talked about the past already. Got that all straightened out. Where is home these days? What are you doing now?"

Marcus pulled his eyes away awkwardly, trying to calculate an answer that would sound reasonable. Staring at her bosoms wasn't helping him do that. He decided to stick with story set forth earlier in the week.

"I do, uh, security system technical sales and support for a large corporation run by I guy I knew from my days in the force. I work out of the Branch office on Minbar."

She looked taken aback. "Isn't that odd for you? Don't you get any hassle? I mean in the war we were fighting them."

"Actually, my being in the war was how I got the job, I spoke the language."

"You speak Minbari? Since when?" She looked shocked, and a bit impressed.

"During my stint on Io. I was a translator in the intelligence office. I never saw any action, just a lot of boring Minbari procedural manuals and history books. But after the war, knowing the new language on the block had advantages."

"I didn't know what you did during the war. With the way you could fly I thought you were a pilot or something." She said softly. She didn't say 'you never wrote me back to tell me either' but she might as well have. 

He waved his hand dismissively, "I couldn't have told you anyway, we were under some pretty extreme regulations about talking about our work, and the monitored any outgoing communications."

"You're right…" She said almost to herself " 'Loose lips sink ships', right?" she nervously said repeating an ancient wartime saying about blabbing secrets.

"Something like that." He smiled softly.

"So, Why are you here on Babylon 5?"

"I live here. I have a few clients on board, and quite a lot of other accounts off station in the surrounding sectors. Living on Babylon 5 makes it more convenient to get around the them all." He sipped his wine trying to make it seem very routine and uninteresting. He waved his hand dismissively, leaning back in his chair. "Boring really, not the exciting stuff you get to do, saving lives and all." 

She laughed; it was a husky full-throated laugh. "Eighteen hours a day strapped to a computer until my eyes bleed running endless incremental cellular hypotheses. Give me a break." She touched his arm. "Hey, You have a card? I'm betting we could use your services, I can give it to my division director-"

"Ah, no. Damn. I left them all in my quarters. Sorry." He made a mental note to have cards made, if nothing else it would be a good cover to have. "Wasn't expecting to need them."

She cocked her head to one side, a sultry smile on her red lips "Then how am I going to call you?" she asked raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Marcus was at a loss for words. What the hell was going on? "Uh, I can give you my page address, I guess. I do travel a lot, so could be a few days before I get back to you though." Try weeks, he thought. 

"That'd be fine," She said sipping her wine and licking the remaining drops of liquid off her lips. Her eyes followed her hand on his arm as it traveled across the table and wound her fingers with his, and gave a soft squeeze. "I don't want to lose you again, now do I?."

Marcus could feel those words with all the heat and weight they were intended. He squirmed, "No, we wouldn't want that." He forced on a smile and squeezed her hand in return.

She looked up at him again, shrouded behind a lock of red hair that had slipped in front of her eyes, "Unless I shouldn't of course. I never asked… is… is there a Mrs. Cole somewhere?"

He shook his head no, looking away for the waiter with the bill. "No, not as of yet." There was no one in sight. He wrote his apartment number on a slip a paper with the words "bill me" and slipped it under his glass.

He felt her hand squeeze his again, her thumb stroking small circles on the soft skin on the back of his hand. His tongue suddenly felt a bit too large for his mouth.

"And, uhm, traveling so much doesn't provide much time or opportunity for any sort of relationship anyway." He was trying to pull some detachment into the conversation, steer it away from where she was trying to take it.

It didn't work. "You have any clients on Mars, by any chance?" Her other hand came up and stroked the strawberry red lock back into place. The way she did it was the problem, long and lingering, up with one finger and back with the other.

He turned his attention at the drink in his other hand, sipping it. "No, I don't get out that way much. I'm sorry." 

"Well, maybe you could get a transfer, do you have a branch office there?" She suggested running her fingers along the edge of her glass.

"I'm afraid not," He glanced around the darkened restaurant; they were one of the only couples left. "We should go before they close the doors on us." 

She nodded just noticing the empty room herself. "You're right, I have an early day tomorrow." 

He rose and offered his hand, assisting her up. He paid the bill with a couple credit chips on the table as her hand slipped into his. 

She smiled at him. "Walk me back?"


	9. Chapter 9: Walking away

_ "I think I have something of yours; I'm betting you want it back," Marcus told the sleepy faced visage of Ben Jenkins across the stellarcom as soon as it appeared. He could tell he was the last person Ben expected to see calling him at 3 am Mars-time. Messages cost a small fortune, he didn't want to think what a live signal cost. He had to make this fast._

An hour before they'd been practically naked in each others arms their once stifled passions approaching a near no-return situation when suddenly he realized he was angry. Very very angry. His hands didn't lovingly trace her body, they pulled at her breasts and clothes roughly, pressing her into the bed, pushing her hands away and back where he wanted them. In his mind spinning around in a lust crazed haze were all the years of hell she'd put him through, all the mind games, how much he wanted her to finally, truly, be his once and for all… and he wanted sex. God how he wanted it, the places she had her hands made it hard for him to feel otherwise. 

His mind jumped randomly on everything but where he was, the pervading pressure in his crotch only fed the fire. His dad dying, being stuck here, being drafted, Christine's hurtful betrayals... 'she wanted him now didn't she' he remembered growling to himself, and by god she'd get it. She pressed her hands against his chest as he spread her legs brusquely, but until that moment it hadn't hit him that the little strangled sounds she'd been making the past few minutes were tears. He was scaring her, and suddenly himself. Scared of what he wanted to do. He began to recoil, his hands lessening their white knuckled grip on her flesh, his body sliding away from hers. Her eyes opened hesitantly; then the crying started.

He slipped into his pants and managed to coax her into an apologetic embrace, whispering soft words of consolation and stroking her golden hair as it flowed down her bare back, cradling her head on his shoulder. He'd finally managed to settle her down. They didn't talk about what almost just happened. He held her till she finally dozed off. 

She was asleep now, tucked warmly into the bed her parents used to sleep in.

Ben's face fell in confusion. "Marcus? Is she there?" He asked with panic heavy in his voice. 

Marcus was now definitely sure something more was going on. He was careful to keep his voice from waking her. "Yeah. She's here."

"Oh thank god! It's been almost a week. Is she ok?"

"She seems fine. What's happened?" 

"Hell, I don't even know. I come home for work and find she left me this weird note saying we weren't working and the wedding was off. All her stuff was there, minus a suitcase and some clothes. She just took off. Didn't tell anyone where to - everyone here is going crazy. We never even thought of Arissia! How long has she been there?"

"Arrived today for my father's funeral, ostensibly." He shrugged. "Can you come and get her? I somehow don't think she should be traveling alone."

"No, no. You're right. I can be out on a liner in an hour, work out the connections en route. Think you can keep her there a few days till I arrive?"

"Yeah. I can." He nodded looking to her sleeping silhouette in the other room. "I'll figure something out."

"Thanks Marcus, you're a true friend." The words while well meant, cut him like a knife.

Marcus smiled, he wouldn't have said had he known what happened, or what would have happened an hour ago. "Thanks Ben, see you then." He said his goodbyes and turned off the stellarcom.

There was that word. The one all men hated. Friend. It felt like a life sentence was just passed down on him. He shook his head and softly left the apartment letting her sleep in peace. 

* * *

She swung his arm playfully back and forth as they walked silently down the winding corridors. Finally she spoke when they reached her door, spinning around to face him. "You don't have anywhere to go for Christmas do you? How about you come over, and stay a few days. I'd love you to meet Marc, and after all I've told him about you, I know he'd want to meet you too."

He could feel his heart beginning to thump hard in his chest as a wave of claustrophobia hit him like a ton of bricks. "Yes, that would be nice. I'll see what I can arrange." He forced on a smile, "Thanks for tonight Chris, it was good to see you again."

"You too, just seeing you again, after all these years. I can't tell you how much it means to me to know you're still alive." The way she looked at him, with so much wonder, he almost felt seventeen again. She used to worship him once, or at least it felt like it then.

She leaned forward and kissed him. Just a simple peck. He froze at the unexpectedness of it. She didn't retreat, she stayed a mere hairsbreadth away, he could feel her breath hot on his lips. She was waiting. She was so close. Staring into her eyes and realized he was waiting also. 

He leaned forward just a bit, his mouth connecting with hers once more. Her lips began to move languidly move across his as her hands settle lightly on his hips. Marcus raised his hands and gently cupped her face as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth as hers wound around it inviting him even further out of his common sense. Her hands crept up his back pulling him closer. A flash of the last time he'd been in this situation with her burned on his synapses.

He stopped pulling his head back to look at the face he held in his hands. Her eyes creaked open, mouth agape. So very little had changed. She was every bit as lovely as he remembered. That was part of the problem, she was exactly as he remembered. He shook his head, a sad smile breaking across his lips.

"What's wrong?" She whispered, seeing him gaze on her so intently. 

Such a fire in those brown eyes, one he'd never seen when she was actually his. No, she as never actually his. And he knew she never would be. Then it hit him; he was okay with that now. 

He took a deep breath, saying this was harder than he thought it would be. "I had better go now. Goodnight, Chris." He placed a kiss to her forehead and stepped away. "I'll stop by and see you again before you leave," he said then turned and began to walk away.

"You're leaving?" she said, racing up to him and setting her hand on his arm. The Ranger stopped. "You can't go now. I just got you back." She said implored softly. 

Wrong answer, he thought to himself. He smiled, resigned, shaking his head. "Bollocks. I knew this would happen..." He groaned.

Her forehead wrinkled like it used to when she was upset. His words hurt her. He didn't care, he didn't! Okay, maybe he did, just a little. He however was less eager to say what came next. 

"Okay, it's like this. I saw you when you first arrived. If I hadn't been in the Zocoalo for lunch you wouldn't even have known I was here at all. I didn't want to see you again. I'm sorry."

The tips of his mouth turned up sadly as he dropped his head but did not lose eye contact. 

"Chris, it was good to see you, I have missed you. More than you know," he said sincerely, then added. "But please, let's just forget you ever saw me. We'll both be better off."

He took a deep breathe through his tensed jaw. "I'm going to go before I say anything more... Goodbye." He leaned forward, grasping her gently by the shoulders and placed a kiss to her forehead, then turned and began to walk away.

"I always loved you," she called out after him, emotion thick in her voice. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at her quizzically. Now her voice had an ounce more courage in it. "I don't think I ever stopped." She tried to smile.

"I'm sorry to hear that but it's about 20 years too late, and I don't want to go back there. I can't." he said simply and turning again to walk as fast as his feet would take him and still look in control of the scene. 

Once in the elevator, he let out a huge exhale and closed his eyes, leaning back against the lift's wall. He could hear her crying as the lift took off. Seconds later he was a dozen levels away. He felt like an ass, but a free ass that finally felt like there was a light somewhere at the end of this damned tunnel.


	10. Chapter 10: Letting Go

_The last few days were like treading on ice, but he'd managed to successfully stay out of Chris' radar. The only time he saw her was the the occasional meal, and he'd managed to make himself unavailable by scheduling the yearly job evaluations a month early. And if anything, the unpleasantness and drudgery of the task kept his mind off the woman. _

His mother and William volunteered to keep her busy and out of his hair. Hopefully it would end soon, Ben was due to arrive any minute. 

He was honestly just afraid to get near her. One; she was fragile. Two; well, he wasn't sure he could keep himself under control. He'd come very closet to doming something he never could have forgiven himself for. Just being around her at those few meals that last week made it impossible to concentrate. He didn't want to do anything he'd regret, and at this point, and Christine wasn't anything but one big regret. One he'd probably never get over.

He certainly wasn't going to go about relationships the same way again. No, he'd be cautious about what he said, and did. He wouldn't throw his whole self into anyone again until he knew they felt the same. He'd have to learn to slow down. There would be no repeats of this horror story if he had a say about it. 

Not like he had anyone worth pursuing on Arissia anyway. The only other available female was Big Sue, and well, the less he thought about Big Sue the better.

His assistant called a few hours later that Ben had arrived. He gave out a hard sigh of relief and pushed away from his desk. He called his mother and said to tell Chris to meet him in the office in 30 minutes. He dodged out the door to head to the shipping dock to meet his much awaited secret guest.

"Nice ship," He said entering the dingy loading area seeing the sporty little narn number was on the pad. Marcus offered his hand in greeting.

"It's a rental, was all they had. Is she still here?" Ben asked jumping from where he'd been waiting for him on the deck to shake it.

Marcus nodded, "She's on her way to my office in a few minutes. How do you want to do this? Want me to bring her here? You go there?"

"You seem awfully anxious to get rid of her."

"Just damned inconvenient, Ben. I don't have to tell you she's rather high maintenance. I'm pretty much running this place alone now. I just don't have time for that crap anymore."

Ben nodded, whatever he'd said seemed to satisfy him somewhat. "I'll go there."

"Alright, Let's go the back way, come on," he said motioning him towards a narrow hallways. "We won't cross her path on the way there."

He lead him through the winding passages and out into the main hall. He punched in a code and the door opened. "I'm just going to pick up some papers and go back to my room and work. So take your time. When you go, take that hallway that way all the way it dead ends and turn right, it'll take you right back to your ship."

Ben nodded absently, looking at his hands as he wound his fingers together nervously. "Marcus, listen I want to thank you for all this. You've gone beyond the call."

"It's no problem."

Ben put his hand on his shoulder. "No really, I mean it. I know you two had a history. She only just told me last year about you being childhood sweethearts and all. I know what she did to you – we did to you - I'm sorry for that too. If I'd known I'd never have…"

"She didn't tell you. It's ok. Really."

"No, it's not. I mean, I suspected, but she only ever said you were best friends. I believed her. It was a really rotten thing to do to someone. If it was me I'm not sure I could be so gracious. I'm really glad you didn't hold any grudges."

Marcus just couldn't not like this man. "I don't have any beef against you, Ben. Or her really either. I'm just happy she's with someone I like - not some asshole." He picked up his briefcase, and went to leave. "Just give her a good life, Okay? Give her something I couldn't."

"What if she doesn't want to come?" The suggestion was there, what if she didn't want him anymore, what if she changed her mind and wanted Marcus back. Would he want Ben to leave without her?

"She will. She doesn't belong here anymore; she never did. She knows that." He lowered his head to exit. "Maybe I'll stop by and see you both if I ever get to Mars."

"I hope you do, and thanks."

"Like I said, no problem." 

Marcus went home and splayed out his papers, put on some very loud, very hard edged "metal" music from his brother's leftover music collection. It suited his mood and most importantly distracted him. He got to work and tried very hard to lose himself in the crashing rythyms and not think about what was going on a few corridors away. 

An hour or so later he got a message from his shipping foreman as he'd requested; Christine and Ben had departed. She was gone. He knew he wouldn't see her again. He thought he'd feel better about her being gone once and for all. He didn't. He felt lost, and for the first time very, truly, abysmally alone. Frowning, he turned the music up even louder, so loud he winced.

It was suddenly as if someone plucked the one string holding him together. Wet trails began to roll down his cheeks as he sank to the floor in tears of long repressed pain and loss. His body racking as he strained to breathe through his sobs that were muted by the blaring guitars. He grieved his father, he wept over losing Chris once more, and he mourned the part of his soul he'd lost to all this, and the bit fo darkness he'd found that had taken up residence in it's place. He'd never be the same person again. He couldn't afford to be, he had nothing left to give. 

* * *

He watched the light as it danced on the edge of the viscous filmy coating of his glass as he swirled the liquor in it. It was a game he played when drinking alone, he'd drink and do this until it became really interesting. Then he knew he'd had enough. He was not quite there yet; he was still dead bored. He shot back the remaining mouthful and poured himself another from the bottle he'd ordered.

"I take it from the decrepit look on your face that it did not go well with your lady-friend," came the now familiar and surprisingly not at all unwelcome voice of his most recent (and increasingly more regular) acquaintance Ambassador Londo Mollari. The mixture of humor and genuine concern was not lost on Marcus's ears. The ambassador pulled a chair from another table and sat across from him.

"Actually…" Marcus smiled sadly, eyes still locked on his glass. "It went as well as can be expected I suppose. Which is to say abysmally."

"Ahhhh… I see." Londo's fanged mouth grin dimmed significantly, "I was hoping it would work out for you. " "Well, thank you." He nodded appreciatively. 

Now the statesman's face became melancholy, "What I would not give for another night in the arms of a certain beautiful lady of my past. Adira - The love of my life she was." He leaned over with a sad smirk, "Incidentially, she was not a redhead – I was all the trouble she needed, apparently." 

Marcus warmly smirked, feeling a real affinity for this man all of a sudden.

Londo looked him in the eye most seriously. "I envy you. I really do. You had your chance, you may not have taken it," The Centauri's voice was somber. "But not many men get such a chance again. No, those only come around once, then they are gone."

"I know." Marcus said solemnly. 

The quite inexplicably, Londo began to sing, it was low at first as Marcus understood some Centuari, he was only able to hear enough to be able to roughly pick it out as a rather tragic but charged tale of love and loss. The song built upwards, growing louder and louder, as it did Londo pounded his fist to he table for emphasis. 

After the second verse the entire Casino was watching intently and the Ambassador sang oblivious to all. Most didn't know what he was saying, but the sad, dramtic melody was all they needed to know. They all looked mesmerized. He finished and opened his now sad eyes the crowd erupted in applause, he threw out his arms and bowed as if he had intended on performing for the entire room, "Thank you! Thank you!" He said graciously waving then sitting down. 

A moment later when Franklin appeared drink in hand, "Ambassador! sounds like the parties over here! Mind if I-" He looked up to see who the ambassador was sitting with. The shock was evident. He'd not expected Marcus to know Londo, let alone associate with him. A week ago he would have agreed. Marcus grimaced uncomfortably with a nod, acknowledging the doctors presence. 

"I'm sorry... I didn't know you were busy…" Stephen said stepping backwards to leave them alone once more, obviously thinking Marcus was working somehow.

Londo rose and sat his arm on the doctor's shoulder, stopping him in his retreat. "No, no! Stay! We are a morose bunch but well will not be so long!" He grabbed another chair and plunked it down with a loud bang. "Sit Dr Franklin, sit, sit!" He motioned wildly. "Do you know my companion? This is-"

"We've met!" Both men chimed together at once, then looked at each other as Londo did not only seem to notice but not care as he began a long rollicking story of his youth.

Finally Mollari, seeing a particularly enchanting dancer, took his leave towards her, and Marcus now sat alone with Stephen. 

After a overly pregnant pause, the doctor spoke up with a saccharine smile. "So, this is new."

Marcus nodded silently.

Franklin nodded towards Londo's back. "Should you be hanging out with him?"

"It's more like he's hanging out with me." Marcus smirked swallowing the last of his glass. "He started a conversation in Arrivals when I first saw Christine, seeing the look on my face when I saw her I guess and started him on about lost loves and all, now the man won't leave me alone!" He chuckled "If I didn't know what I know about him I'd be inclined to really let myself like him. There's something quite sad and sweet about him, you know. He's very endearing once you get used too him."

"Yeah, Like a club to the head."

"No, no, I can't quite place it. He's definitely not who I thought he was. But since the man is following me like a lost puppy, we'll see what I can learn from him while he's at it. So, just for the record I'm a security consultant, just here a few days on business."

"Of course you are." Stephen said nonchalantly into his glass as he took a drink.

"You think this is a bad idea."

"I find Londo seems to cause trouble and that you have a habit of finding it - I'm just hoping I come out of this alive, that's all."

"Your optimism is heartening." Marcus said sarcastically, "And you say I spend too much time with Ivanova." 


	11. Chapter 11: Propects

_He didn't hold a wake for his Mother. He took a few days off to transport to a nearby commercial cemetery moon and set both his parents ashes to rest, together. Just as they should be. Marcus had picked that particular site for two reasons; they could visit it, and the moon's pinpoint of light could been seen with the naked eye from Arisia's inhabitants platform. Marcus found that fact extremely comforting. To be able to see them as a star in the space around him. To always be able to look up and see them. _

William was heading back out on whatever whim was catching his fancy now, leaving Marcus to run things back at home. He was barely home a week this time. As try as he might, Marcus couldn't withhold the waves of jealousy. He reminded himself that Will had never taken interest in the business, and couldn't blame him. If things had been different he wouldn't still be here himself.

Christine still wrote time to time but they were becoming fewer and fewer as she got her own life far, far from here. Last he heard she was pregnant. Still a part of him wished… no nevermind, it was useless now. She'd made her choice and he'd made his. It was done.

He hit the intercom, asking for the next interview to come in. He'd finally gotten their heads above water and could afford to replace Chris's father as Chief Planetary Forecaster. 

Who walked in was not what he expected. Dark skinned, with a short coif of tight sable curls that only accentuated the big eyes and high cheekbones… a woman. A young one at that.

He caught himself from staring and looked at his papers, "You're… Hasina Mandisa?" he asked bewildered, standing and offering his hand.

"Yes… Mr Cole, Right?" she shook it, but looked confused as well. 

"Right. You're younger than I was lead to believe from your resume."

She smiled genuinely. "Thank you. I was about to say the same about you. After everything I read about Cole Mining I thought you'd be much older." 

He nodded, now seeing, "You are probably thinking of Nick. He died a few years back, I'm Marcus, his son."

"Ah that explains it. I'm sorry to hear about your father. He set a lot of standards in Quantium-40 safety."

"He firmly believed in the highest level of worker safety, yes, and I fully intend to keep that going. I see you've done you research."

"Research is what I do." She said frankly. "It's compulsive after awhile."

"Yes." He sat down and motioned for her to follow. "I can see that. Your resume is most impressive, like I said the credentials you've built implied someone much older." He said scanning the resume again.

"I've been interested in planetary geology and seismology since I was a child, luckily I got a early start."

"I see that too. If my math's right then you got your masters in geology when you were what… 19?"

"18."

He nodded, impressed. "Several companies all good names, great letters of recommendation… I think I've read a paper of yours in the Modern Mining Monthly. Am I right?"

She smiled, obviously impressed by his memory, "Last May!"

He smiled. "I never forget a name… Sorry to hear that Gründersen went under. That's where you just came from right?"

"Yes, Not many of the old places left. It's all mega-giant corporations now" She noted. "I don't know how you've made it, but it's a rare feat anymore."

Marcus smiled proudly, nodding. "The war almost kicked our butts out of the business, too, but I've managed to pull it back in line enough we can refill some long empty necessary positions. Like Planetary Forecasting. So have you tried talking to IPX at all? You'd be a natural choice for them, with your background."

"No, The smaller ops are what I prefer. They normally they don't mind me running my own research in addition to my regular duties as much as the big guys who just want to lay claim to anything I might publish. Like they need it or would use it, anyway. Research is useless if it's not useful."

He looked up from the resume "Why would you want to come here? We're not exactly on the fast track you're obviously destined for."

"For me it's the best of both worlds. I hear there can be some original fingerprints in some of seismic activity here on Arissia. I'd think it would interesting to study it. Only way to do that is to be out here. Also, as I said Cole Mining has a long-time good reputation from the various worlds you have worked over the decades."

Marcus smiled. She'd do just fine. 

* * *

He sat down his fork turning the page of his report, chewing slowly as he read. The shadows were heading towards Centuari Prime for some reason. He didn't dare try to inquire of his new companion Londo on the issue, but he needed to know why.

The table rocked a bit and he glanced over the papers edge to see Stephen and Susan standing there, lunch trays in hand. The Doctor's fingers were still on the table's edge from having shaken it to get his attention. 

"Feel like company?" the Doctor asked.

He smiled softly, nodding, putting away his papers down, and motioned to the chairs swallowing his last bite, quickly removing some of his paperwork sprawl. "Mmm! Please!" Misery loves company, he thought to himself.

"We don't usually see you in here this time of day," Susan noted setting down her tray next to him. Indeed, she was right, he usually joined the rest in the Mess for breakfast to compare notes and socialize a bit, the rest of his day he spent pretty much alone. Today he felt like a late lunch, and being he had some stuff to read through the mess was better than in the Zocalo where he might bump into Christine.

"I'm trying to stay off radar, so I thought I'd come in here between appointments." He said sipping his caff watching her as she sat down. "Anything interesting today, Miss Voice of the Resistance?"

She snorted, "Nope, and don't you go jinxing it." She pointed at him with her fork menacingly. "I'm hoping for a quiet day."

"For someone trying to stay off radar you sure do you like to be noticed." Stephen said sitting opposite him. "What was with those flowers you sent to the lab today, or need I have to ask?" Stephen none too subtly wagged his eyebrows.

Marcus grimaced, glaring up at him. He really wished he hadn't brought that up, and in that way, in front of her no less. He rubbed at his forehead. "It's not what you're thinking, Doctor, I assure you."

Susan looked at him curiously then to Franklin. "Flowers, eh?" "Three dozen red roses to Dr Jenkins. Things nearly take up an entire treatment room."

"I guess, if you're into that sort of thing… it's very romantic…" she said taking a sip of her caf.

"Or very apologetic," He said catching her eyes. He saw a flicker of curiosity at that. "That's all it was. An apology."

"That's one hell of an expensive "I'm sorry". Whatever you did must have been a doozy," She said said hoarsely, still meeting his eyes.

"You could say that it's not something I'm terribly proud of."

Stephen has been looking form Susan to Marcus back and forth. "Such as?"

Marcus did not wanting to get into it. "Did she like them?"

Stephen nodded. "She didn't throw them out, if that's what you mean. I think if she had the staff would have given her an earful, they're all very jealous." Stephen laughed.

Marcus smirked. "Well then, I'll try to piss one of them off in future, we can make it a lottery."

Stephen laughed, just about to take his first bite just as his link went off. He groaned setting down his fork. "Franklin." He said into the small receiver.

"We have a stabbing from downbelow coming in, should be here in two minutes. Sounds bad. Punctured lung, severed artery. Hobbes is off today. Should I call her in?"

"Damn, No, I'll be right there," he said into his link and ended connection. He stood and picked up his tray "I'll take this with me, might be able to get to it later."

"Do me a favor, don't mention you saw me here ok?" Marcus said pointing downwards. "I'm not ready to come out of hiding quite yet."

"No problem. Secret is safe with me." He assured him going out the door with his untouched meal.

Marcus and Susan sat quietly a few minutes eating. Wanting to say something to her, but now sure what, he decided to avoid it altogether and picked up his report again.

"Is she, uh," Susan spoke cautiously looking everywhere but at him, "the one you were telling me about?"

Marcus swallowed hard, quite surprised she asked that. He shook his head slowly. "No. She could have been, once, long ago. Wasn't meant to be." he took a deep breath closing his eyes to think of the right thing to say next. "The.,. the reason I sent the flowers-"

She waved her hand, now obviously feeling awkward with the discussion "It's none of my business, really, I'm sorry to –" She began to rise.

"No, it's okay," he put a hand softly on her arm to stop her. She looked at the hand on her arm and slowly sat back down. 

He lifted his hand, holding her eyes with is as he spoke in a low voice, "I um, just said some things... Not without reason mind you, but seeing her again brought up a lot of… stuff I thought I had gotten over. Evidentially I was wrong, it was actually a rather informative outburst." He chuckled rubbing his face in embarrassment. "I can barely stand myself right now. I said some really awful things. I can be a Class A ass sometimes when I get going."

A cynical smile entered on her face, "And his is news to me how?" she playfully teased him. Was he imagining she looked now somewhat relieved? He enjoyed the rosy red flush of her face, and caught himself staring.

"Ahh! There you are. Just the two I was hoping to find," came the familiar voice of John Sheridan from behind them. Marcus inwardly cursed, their little moment was ruined now. Sheridan wove his way through the crowded mess tables filled with personnel. 

"Good morning, Captain." Susan chimed. "Have a seat."

"Wish I could, but I have a meeting in about a half hour. You guys feel up to a field trip?"

"Why?" she asked.

"I need to send a Whitestar and head out ASAP to Alta 7 to escort the Poseidon back here for repairs. They wandered into a skirmish with the Euphrates."

"My god, are they alright?" Marcus asked. 

"Lucikly enough, yes. As they retreated they caught a hit to the aft jump engine on the way through the jump-point. Blew out the entire navigation array."

"Wow. I'd say they are damned lucky to have made it out in one piece," Susan gruffly noted. "They did make it out in one piece. Right?"

Sheridan nodded. "Well, one piece minus one hell of a nasty hole to the seat of their pants, yeah. But, the good news; they are not in any immediate danger where they are, hulls holding up, life support is fine - they are just stranded without a map. Their people think they can be repaired enough to still fully contribute again, just no way to do it there. God knows we need all the hands we can get - You two open to go?"

"I am," Susan said confidently, but her next words were more cautious, her eyes lowered at the table before. "Marcus. I know you have a friend on board... I'd understand if you wanted to pass-."

"What? And miss your charming company? Certainly not." He teased her before looking to Sheridan. "Although, Captain, I don't feel one Whitestar will be able to tow it, let alone defend it properly. We'll need a few. Can we spare them?"

"We'll have to. What do you think we need? Three?"

"Mmm." He nodded pursing his lips. "I'd make it an even four. I like the symmetry."

Sheridan laughed shaking his head. "That's as good a reason as any, I suppose. I have to go, let me know about when you're leaving alright?"

"Will do." Susan nodded. She placed her silverware and coffee cup on the tray after he left "Well I should get back to C&C." She explained rising and dumping her tray.

Marcus glanced at his chrono. "I'll come with you," He said quickly taking up the space to her side "C&C is on my way."

"To what?" she asked intrigued, more than usual, he noticed.

He waved his hand. "Oh… To meet the person in the place with the thing, you know. Just something I have to do before I leave."

She shook her head bewildered, but a soft smile peeked out. "Whatever."

They turned the first corner and waited for the lift to arrive.

"So, Commander, what time you want to head out?" he asked seeking her eye contact.

"What's the earliest we can leave you think?" she asked as the doors opened, and they both climbed in. She gave it her destination.

He moved to stand directly in front of her, cocked his head thinking, his hands on his slim hips. "Depends if you want to leave as a group or have them join us en route. If we wait for them… mmmm…18 hours give or take. If we meet them along the way… we could leave whenever you're ready. I can organize the rendezvous in transit easily enough."

She frowned thinking. "I don't want to wait for them to make it all the way here, but we'll be useless by ourselves. I think I'd like to get a good night's sleep first. The less I have to deal with sleeping on a Whitestar the better, I have a bad feeling I'm going to need it."

"Bright and early in the morning then?"

"Sounds like a plan." She shifted to her feet and just stood there staring into him like she wanted to say something then finally tossed back her tightly bound braid. "0600 sharp?"

"Agreed. And, if I recall correctly I do believe it's my turn to bring breakfast."

They'd begun a habit of picking up takeaway before a voyage to take the edge off long voyages on the Whitestar – the Minbari were not exactly known for fine cuisine and their rations left much to be desired to say the least. Starting it off with a decent meal seemed to help a lot with the tension levels.

She smiled. "I think you're right."

"The usual?" 

"Okay by me." She nodded curtly as the doors opened. "Ahh, Here's my stop."

Marcus gracefully sidestepped with a flourish to allow her to leave the lift. "Until tomorrow morning, Commander."

She only nodded, turned and walked out the doors. They closed behind her, leaving him alone. He felt like something was bothering her, but remained rooted to the spot as she stalked out. Maybe he could see what the matter was on board later. Oh who was he fooling?


	12. Chapter 12: Goodbyes

He leaned against the wall next to her door, she was due back anytime now. He crossed one leg over the other and waited. A few passengers wandered by to places elsewhere, he nodded politely. 

He heard swift foot steps come to a halt, and looked up, Chris had turned he corner and seen him and stopped in her tracks. The stern look on her face told she was still upset with him. And rightly so.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Jenkins! Lovely day, aye!" He forced on his most charming smile.

Her look softened and she slowly stepped closer. "You're the last person I expected to see today."

He decided not to quantify that. "I did say I'd stop by to see you before you left."

"Yes but I didn't expect you so soon."

He shrugged "Well, yes, something has come up and I have to dash, won't get back till you're gone I'm afraid. Do you have a few minutes?"

She furrowed her brow stepping in front of him with a sideward glance and punched in her door code, and moved inside the door to one side. With a grand sweeping gesture welcomed him in. A bit overly theatrical, but he wasn't going to fuel this fire again by making a snide comment.

He saw the roses from the day before on her kitchen counter.

"Before you start, I want my say." She snapped, arms still crossed formidably in front of her. 

"By all means…" He motioned with his hand.

"The night I showed up at your Dad's funeral…When we-"

He interrupted her. "I really don't want to go back there-" Marcus stared at the floor. "I don't know what came over me, I'm just glad I came to my senses before it went any further."

"Did I ask you to stop?"

Marcus didn't answer.

"I didn't, did I? Yeah, I was upset, but if I wanted to stop you, I could have made you. Believe me, you don't grow up around miners without learning a few very effective self defense moves, my Dad made sure of that," she stepped closer, "I was upset because it was like you weren't even there. I could feel it, you didn't love me, not anymore. It was like you were a stranger. I was mad at myself… because I killed that part of you."

He had been avoiding her gaze staring past her at the wall over her shoulder. She reached out and touched his cheek, causing him to lock eyes with her. "I'm sorry. For all of it. I spent a lot of years second-guessing, so much so it ruined my marriage, but don't get me wrong a part of me will always love you. I never lied about that."

"I know." He murmured. 

She watched him silently a moment, then shook her head. "You're not the same Marcus I knew. At dinner it was like you were afraid to tell me too much… to tell me anything."

"Once burned, twice shy." He murmured. "Listen, Chris, I didn't come to dwell what went wrong, or when, or who. It can't solve anything now. I came to say goodbye, and to bring you this." He pulled a bound book out of his long robes. On it's dark blue cloth cover cover in gold pressed letters, "Meditations of Marcus Aurlieus". 

He ran his fingers over the letters for the last time, and handed it to her. "Give this to Marc. He's not ready for it quite yet, but someday… someday he might need what's inside."

"Thank you." She said more than bit touched. 

He tapped the cover. "I was given it by wise and trusted friend when my life was at it's darkest point after the explosion a few years ago. I've learned much from it, but being that I have no children to pass it down to, and not likely to any time soon, I would very much like him to have it. It would mean a lot to me if he did."

She smiled softly, clasping the book to he chest. "I'll make sure he reads it."

"One look at the inside and he'll hate it for sure; it's very dry." He started the laugh. "But there are good lessons inside that all men should know." He snapped his heels together. "And with that, I should go. We both have full days tomorrow. I have to pack again."

"I'm not going to see you again, am I?" she said softly searching his face. "That why you gave me the book now."

He shook his head. "Let's face it. Probably not. I'd like to say I'd come and visit, we know I won't with my schedule. You could get back out this way of course, but with the political situation, the distance and the children, I wouldn't bet on it any time soon. Nor would I blame you."

"So this is it." She said with finality.

He smiled. "Afraid so." 

"Can I call you? Or is that against the rules?"

"No, no rules against that."

"I might die of shock if you call back."

That caused him to let out a large laugh as he walked to the door, it opened behind him. "It was good to see you Chris. I mean that."

"You too. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I'll try."

"Well, if this is it, I want to say goodbye properly this time." 

She stepped forward and kissed him, soft and gentle, her hands pulling his head down to hers and slipping tongue into his mouth.

After a few moments, his hands gently clasped over hers and removed them from his cheeks. Lazily his eyes opened to see her watching him. "Bye, Christine."

She smiled. "Goodbye, Marcus."


	13. Chapter 13: Holding Pattern

"Good morning." He called out to her from the far control panel as she entered the bridge.  
  
"Morning." Ivanova growled sleepily. It was on the wrong side of 0700 for her to be cordial yet.  
  
"Breakfast is in your chair." He called out chirpily from his startup checklist.  
  
"Oooh, Thanks..." she said removing the bag taking her seat. "Just what I've been needing today."  
  
"What? No tip?" he teased feigning a look of insult. "Well, I never!"  
  
"So, I've heard," She smirked, her eyes twinkling playfully as she pulled out her hot caff cup out of the bag and taking a large, long sip. "Ahhh... this place makes the best caff. It almost tastes like it's actually coffee. Wish I knew how they did it."  
  
"Ceronn Root." He said fighting the red rise in his cheeks that was straining to come to the surface with her jab at his confession a few months earlier.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Ceron Root. In the pot. That's the secret. I saw them put it in once."  
  
"Oh. Never would have thought of that. Have to try that sometime." She looked around the bridge. "So, We all ready to go?"  
  
"Just waiting for you." Marcus replied softly. As always, he thought.  
  
Susan's eye caught his, and she was obviously debating on what to say next. Finally she ripped her eyes away and stared forward. "Let's go." 


End file.
